Reverie
by Raige
Summary: Johnny and Dally are dead, and the gang knows that it's too late to bring them back. When they reminisce, can they come to terms with this harsh reality, and will they finally be able to pick up the pieces? UPDATE: Soda's POV added
1. Downfall of Dallas Winston

_A/N: This is from Ponyboy's POV...Thank you to my reviewers :)_

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I remember that night well. "Stay gold, Ponyboy" What the hell was that supposed to mean? I didn't have the time to ask because he died...Just died, and left us all, broken and confused. He didn't look like himself, just like a wax figure, a cheap substitute for Johnny. But he wasn't Johnny. Whoever it was that was lying in that hospital bed,cold and lifeless, it wasn't Johnny.I lied to myself, thinking in my insanity, that if I was convinced Johnny was living, he would suddenly get out of the hospital bed and walk home with me. But I never was very good at lying to anybody, much less myself. And so I fought back tears that I knew would come, looking out the window, and saw grey clouds gathering outside. So the clouds, too, mourned the loss of an angel on earth. My best friend, the angel, the gang's pet, gone. 

Then I looked at Dally. Boy, was he shook up. He walked over to Johnny and pushed his hair out of his face. Dally called Johnny a punk, but we both knew he didn't mean it. He looked wistfully at Johnny's face, as if there were words left unsaid between them. But he wouldn't let himself say those words, whatever they were. He always had put up a front of a tough guy, cold-blooded and angry, but now, that was gone. For a split second, Dally appeared to have let down his guard, on the verge of tears. But then the flash of emotion was gone, his stoic mask back on his face. He suddenly whirled about and started pounding the wall, face contorted in agony. It was then that I realized that Johnny was Dally's only real tie to this life. Without him, Dally could keep on getting into fights, slashing tires, jumping bums, but none of it would be the same. I knew Dally would always remember this night.

Without warning, Dally just ran out of the room. I looked after him, and he ran, ran like a madman through the hospital. I didn't know where he was going, or why, but I knew he took the car. If I didn't have a way to get home, I thought I would stay with Johnny for a while. So I did. I just looked at him, and his glassy, dead eyes stared right through me with a hollow look. I didn't know what time it was, but I knew I had to get home, had to break the news to Darry and Soda, before Dally got there, so he wouldn't look like he had abandoned me. Dally. That's when I remembered. Who knew what he would do in this state? Was he capable of killing himself? I didn't know, but I had to do something.

So I ran too. Running was like a base instinct to me. Whenever things got bad, I ran. So I kept running, in the rain that was now coming down like a flood. I don't remember how long, and I don't really think even I knew why. It was as if my mind had blanked. Eventually I slowed down, my thin sweatshirt drenched through with rain. I shivered for a while, sitting in the gutter. Until finally, a man asked me if I needed a ride and took me home. Usually, I would have kept walking home, but tonight-I don't know, it was like everything had flipped upside down. Dally had taken off and Johnny was dead, nothing would ever go back to normal, even if Dally came back.

I staggered out of the car, feeling oddly lightheaded. When I got inside, what was left of the gang was lying about in the living room. They were pretty cut up from the rumble, especially Two-Bit, who would go on to get 4 stitches in his cheek and 7 in his hand. Although they looked like they had been through hell, they were just smoking, and lying there as if nothing had happened. But they were oddly silent. I noticed Dally wasn't there and I knew there was something wrong.

I said the first words that came to me, "Johnny's...dead"

Nobody said anything. We had all thought Johnny would live, deluded ourselves into 'knowing' he would be alright. For our sake, he would live, he was like glue that hold us together. We would fall apart without him, and we all knew it in the back of our minds. Soda looked on the verge of tears and Two-Bit just gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. I could tell it pained the entire gang, but not as much as it hurt Dally.

"Dally..Ran like the devil," I gasped, as my breath was coming in short, uneven, breaths. Nobody seemed to notice, even me. I started to shake, and Darry asked me if there was anything wrong. I felt my head throbbing, and in my stupidity, thought that they could hear it throbbing. I backed away, towards the door frame, when the phone call came.

If it hadn't been for that phone call, we might have never known what had become of Dallas Winston. We would have thought he had left town, still alive. Sometimes, I think pretending he were still alive would be happier for us. The rest of the gang might think he werea traitor, but he would be living.

Darry hung up and told us quickly, "It's Dally. He robbed a store and the fuzz is after him. He said he'll be at the lot in a minute."

Without a second thought, all of us left the house at a run. By then, I knew there was something wrong with me. I stumbled down the stairs and wasn't able to run in a straight line. Our feet pounded the pavement, and we were all silent, except for the sounds of heavy breathing. It wasn't like a few hours earlier when we were going to the rumble, whooping and laughing at the top of our lungs.

When we reached the lot, we saw Dally, running as fast as he could. The cops' sirens wailed and the policemen lept out of their cars, all pulling out guns that I knew were loaded. Dally skidded to a halt underneath a streetlight. He looked up at the light, as if he was trying to prove something to the light. Then he whipped out his heater from his waistband, and I knew what he was going to do. I couldn't even shout, to tell the cops that the gun was unloaded and Dally didn't know what he was doing. Didn't know he was throwing his life away.I wanted to scream as the bullets pierced his body. I knew he had wanted this though. I knew.

Through it all, Dally had a triumphant smirk on his face, and as the bullets jerked him around, I could almost picture him telling me, "I told you so."

Glory, I was dizzy. I staggered backwards a bit, and my vision blurred. What was happening? I crumpled to the floor, and the last think I remembered seeing that night was the downfall of the infamous Dallas Winston.

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A/N: Who's POV do you think I should do next?


	2. Heaven Ain't All It's Cracked Up To Be

A/N: Okay, so I only got 2 reviews on that chapter..But more than anything, I write because it's fun, not just for the reviews (although they are cool).Anyway, thanks to **Jade Cade **for the suggestion (**Sarah126,** I'll probably do Soda next)This one is less depressing, but still a bit sad.

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**Johnny's POV**

"Darry...I'm going out," said Ponyboy, standing up,off the couch in the middle of the smoke-filled living room, where the rest of the gang was.

Two-Bit, Soda, and Steve barely looked up. Everyone had been in a pretty bad state since the rumble...the night me and Dally died. Sure, they carried on doing the same as before, but they were hollow now. It was as if their souls had been stolen. I wanted so badly to give it back to them, even if that meant they forgot about me, but I was powerless.

"Where?" asked Darry. Ponyboy acted like he didn't hear Darry, put on his leather jacket that Dally had given him, and walked out of the flat.

He looked crushed, still mourning over Dally and me, I reckon. _'Glory Pony, that ain't no reason to be all upset,_'I thought. I wished I could tell him that I was happy, that I was fine. But I couldn't. I was dead, and there wasn't any cure for that. It was a gift and a curse to be able to see my friends again. I could see them, watch their lives until they died and joined me, but I couldn't speak to them. I could scream the loudest I possibly could, and they would keep walking, because they couldn't hear me.

I looked down at Ponyboy, slamming the door and flipping up the collar of his leather jacket. He lit a cancer stick, puffed away, walking towards...Where was he walking? I didn't know, but I let myself fall back into my thoughts.

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That night, I remember it was cold. For some reason, I knew I was going to die, but it didn't bother me anymore. Shoot, if I was going to die, I might as well die with my friends around. Those kids had more to live for than me. They had big things ahead, some would go on to become big-shot business men, I later found out. Me, what did I have to look forward to? Beatings?Getting jumped? 

I choked out my last words to Ponyboy. I knew he didn't understand right then, but I hoped, for Dally's sake, that he would open the book I gave him before either of them did something stupid. If he didn't...Well, it would be up to Ponyboy to pick up the pieces.

When people describe blacking out, they say blackness eats away at the corners of their vision...It was like that, except that it was a white light. I was scared, so I kept running back. But then a calmness fell over me, and slowly, I walked towards it.I felt sleepy, stiffened, and then gave in to what I thought was sleep...Next thing I knew, I was looking at myself on the hospital bed, Dally walking towards me. Huh? What in the hell was this? I was-on the bed...I was dead. No, this couldn't be. I still had so much life to live. God, I was only sixteen! Sixteen years of what? Pain, abuse, fright? Those sixteen years had been wasted. I hadn't even been out of town once in my whole goddamned life! I had so much to do, so much to see...

I was confused, and I don't know for how long I wandered about the hospital, staring at my own dead body for a while. It was creepy to look at myself and being stared at right back with wide eyes. And then I wondered: why hadn't it hurt to die? If dying didn't hurt, then why were people so scared?

Then I remembered: Dally. Damn it. How could I have died? I knew that I kept him grounded at times that he felt like doing something incredibly illogical and he...well, he...I admit it, just being around him kept me happy. He was my hero, my protector..and I loved him.

I remembered the time when I had gotten jumped by four Socs. Glory, was my head reeling. But I did see Dally look sick. Why was he looking like he was about to hurl his guts onto the pavement, when he himself had been involved in many a mugging since his wild days in New York? Surely this wasn't unusual to him. He had seen friends cut up and killed, right before his eyes, why was this bothering him so much? And then it struck me that he might actually care about me. Dally, whose uncaring was infamous throughout Greaser territory, might actually care what happened to another human being. '_No_ _that can't be, Dallas Winston loves no one, cares for no one, and most definitely does not care what happens to Johnny Cade'_ I reprimanded myself. How could I be so stupid to think thatDallywould even flinch. He probably was just getting over a hangover, or so I thought.So I pushed the thought out of my mind for a while, at least.

In the months that followed, we became even closer. It was never a best friends type of situation like Soda and Steve had at the DX station, just that we understood each other. We both knew what it was like to have rough breaks, to fight for life. Nobody else in the gang had any of these experiences, so we just fit in together, like two puzzles pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.

I slipped deeper and deeper into thoughts of Dally. I though of the time we had kissed that one time at the lot. I couldn't believe it. It was as if I was dreaming. I lusted for a taste of his lips for so long, and then...we kissed. It was glorious, and now that my life was over, I could truly say it was my favorite memory of Dally. His hardness and coldness had all but disappeared in those brief seconds. I saw in his eyes a vulnerability that I, nor anyone else, would ever see again. Still in disbelief, I blushed and said goodbye, leaving him sitting in the lot. Before turning the corner, I couldn't resist turning around and giving him a wink, somehow emboldened by the ecstatic feeling in the pit of my stomach.

And where was Dally now? I knew that Dally had been overcome with-overcome with something and had gone and gotten himself killed by the fuzz. I had hope that I might find him here, in this state of being called heaven. I can hear him call my name, but nothing more. I always turn around,searching, hoping to see him again.We are separated by the endless abyss called hell by the living. I see him sometimes, through the endless space that separates us. I want to throw myself from heaven and fling myself down to Dally...It seemed so unfair that I, who died because I was stupid enough to go into a burning house, was allowed to enter heaven, while Dally, who although not a perfect person, had risked himself and put himself on the line whenever he needed to protect his friends, had been condemned to hell. At times, I feel like cursing God, asking him why I have been allowed to suffer this bittersweet ending for eternity. Of course, I never get an answer.

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Looking at Ponyboy again, I still didn't know where he was going. He was looking at the sky now, still puffing away at his cigarette. Where the hell was Ponyboy going? If he ended up at one of Buck Merril's parties, I would skin him alive...somehow! Even after death,I still was overprotective with Pony. Sure, we always managed to get into trouble together, but hey,Pony was still younger than me, and I always would look out forhim 

Then I saw the gates open. The gates of the cemetary. "_Oh no. Please don't let him go in, please_," I thought. I didn't want Pony to see my grave again. Last time he had went, he had ended up staring blankly at the world around him for weeks. I knew it hurt him to remember me or Dally, but goddamnit, Pony had to learn to let us go, to get on with his life. It sounded harsh, and I knew Pony was my best friend, but I didn't want him to brood over two dead guys, one of which wasn't much of a person in life (me) anyway. Brooding would do nothing but make him miserable.

I saw Pony walk over to my gravestone. It was as small and as insignificant as I had been while living. It read:

**Johnathan Cade  
June 25, 1950-October 15, 1966  
Beloved friend and son, we will never forget**

I scoffed at my inscription. I knew for a fact that my mother had chosen that. Jocelyn Cade. Always trying to make a good impression on everyone. At first, it broke my heart to see her put makeup on the bruises my father had given her. Then she began to ignore me, to the point where I was lucky if she grunted at me once during the course of a week. And then she would yell at me occasionally, never once saying a word as my father beat me in a drunken rage almost every night. She always wanted people to think she was the ideal mother and spouse, but she wasn't fooling anyone. I don't even think she fooled herself.

Pony just sat at my gravestone for a while as he always did, contemplating the sunset. The same sunset I knew Cherry Valance, Dally, and even my mother were watching, if only for a second. Then the tears came. First a trickle, and then, before I knew it, he was half-sobbing, half-talking to me. "Why Johnny? Why damn it! Why wasn't that me underneath that beam instead of you? You deserved to live longer, you deserved to experience the beautiful things in life," said Ponyboy, quietly to the stone in front of him. He continued,"You know you took Dally with you, right? I always did think he had a thing for you...The way you looked at each other. Did you see his face when you died in the hospital?"

"Ponyboy... I just wanted to say.. I-I'm sorry. For the pain I caused everyone. I know I could have fought it, I know I could have, but it just seemed right to give in to death... Tell everyone I'm sorry. Two-Bit, Darry, Soda, Steve-even Randy and Cherry. Who am I kidding? You can't hear me, can you, kid?" I said, resting on a tombstone near Ponyboy.

Suddenly he looked up. "W-Who's there? J-Johnny?" he said. So he had heard me!

"Pony! You can hear me? It's Johnny! Tell everyone I love them...and that heaven ain't all it's cracked up to be," I shouted, hoping that he could still hear me.

Oddly, Pony just looked at my gravestone, his fingers tracing the inscription on my tombstone. So he hadn't heard me the second time..."Thanks, Johnny," Pony whispered as he got up, "Thanks for everything. I mean it." He brushed off his jacket, still blackened from the fire, and walked out of the cemetary, closing the gates behind him with a clang.

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A/N: What did you think? It just seemed so sad for Johnny to be separated from Dally, but then I realized that if they both were in heaven, it wouldn't make sense, as they were radically different in their actions during life..Ehh, pay me no mind, I'm confusing myself...Anyway, just found this really cool site called **www dot wrongsideofthetracksawards dot cjb dot net** it's Outsiders fanfiction awards...Go there if you want to read great stories and nominate some great ones too(no this is not a plug for my own stories,it's just a plug for the site...although if you wanted to nominate me, it would be cool) Read and review please! Still asking for suggestions as to who's POV to do next.. 


	3. Facing My Demons

_A/N: Thanks again to my reviewers...Can't remember off the top of my head who they were. You guys rock majorly! Here's Soda's POV._

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I drove to work at the DX station, like I always do, today. I was late and my boss yelled at me, as had become the usual. 

As I was filling a customer's car with gas, my boss, Mr. Pike, beckoned me towards his office. "Come here, Curtis," he said gruffly.

I walked into Mr. Pike's office. It was of the cheap kind, with sparse grey carpeting and false wood paneling the walls. No certificates of any kind decorated the walls, but then again, what can you expect from anyone who works at a gas station? His desk was littered with crumpled papers and pictures of his family. Apparently his family had been happy. I say 'had' because these pictures were crumpled, and some faces were scratched out. It was as if he had blocked them out, much like what I did with what I remembered about...that day. The seat that I sat in had no back and the once rich, chocolate brown leather had a gash in it, the foam inside spilling out. This place had seen better days, along with it's owner and everyone else who worked here.

"Damn it, Curtis! This is the third time this week! Don't you want to keep your job? What happened to the Sodapop Curtis that was practically on his knees to work here 2 years ago?" yelled Mr. Pike, the assistant manager of the gas station. He was pacing about, slapping his pockets in agitation. Over the past days, I had been late to work, just driving around aimlessly, and then remembering I had to work. I had been coming in to work an hour or two late, never quite sure where I had just been.

Mr. Pike stared at me while unwrinkling an old picture of his wife on their wedding day. I looked at my shoes, forgetting that Mr. Pike had always been lenient and would probably let me off with just a warning. Embarassed, I stood silent, intently studying the grey carpet in the office.

"The carpet sure is drab, ain't it,Mr. Pike? I say you get new carpeting," I said dumbly, hoping to change the subject. I didn't want to see the demons inside me once again. Not again.

Mr. Pike stared at me and sighed, putting down his wife's picture. "For Christ's sake, Curtis, get a hold of yourself. I know there's something wrong with you," He paused for a moment, thinking I might explain my problems to him, "You know what? Just go. Take the day off. Resolve your issues, but when you come back, I want you with your same enthusiasm, you heard me? I'll cover for you, but it's just this once," said Mr. Pike, waving me out of the office, and putting his head in his hands.

I nodded silently and strolled out of the office, glad that he hadn't fired me. What _had _gotten into me lately? I wondered as I walked towards my car.

"Hey Soda! Where you goin'? Weren't we gonna go the Dingo later?" shouted Steve, coming out from underneath a car that he had been fixing. He was smeared with black grease, clearly having the time of his life, as he always did when he was around cars. Startled, I turned around, forgetting that I had promised Steve that we would go "hunting action" after work. Right now I wasn't that interested, but I told him I might take him up on the offer later.

As I got into my car, the barrier I had put between my memories and me broke. Dally and Johnny. Dead. I had never been extremely close to either of them, but I remembered them vividly, as if they were standing right in front of me. Johnny, with his nervous, frightful eyes, and his greasy black hair that couldn't help but fall into his eyes. Beaten by his parents and by the world,we showed him the only love he ever knew in his entire short life. Dally, with his cold eyes and pure, unadulterated hate towards the world in his heart. Why had he done it? Gotten himself killed by the fuzz, gone berserk, after Johnny died.

Johnny...Why had he gone after those kids? Why hadn't Ponyboy gotten killed too? And Dally. Why was he even carrying a heater? Could he have escaped? Did he want to die? There were a million questions running through my head about them, that I had never gotten answers to. I got out of my car, and picked up a newspaper at the deli, too busy to notice the clerk flirting with me.

"So...You new around here, boy?" she asked while leaning over the counter, grinning flirtatiously, and hiking her skirt up higher.

"Huh? Uh, no. I mean-yes. I mean-what?" I asked confusedly. I had been too busy staring at the front page in the newspaper. "HOODLUM TURNED HERO DIES" read one headline. Another read, "POLICE STANDOFF WITH CRIMINAL TURNS DEADLY"

She sighed, leaned back, and continued chewing her gum. "Are all Greaser guys like you? Dumb, I mean," she asked, but she just gave me my change, and I left without giving her a second thought.

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I walked back to my truck and just stared at the paper. 'Hoodlum turned hero'? Is that what they think Johnny was? A hoodlum? No, he was just a poor boy, trying for all he was worth to belong and be accepted. Not some hood like Tim Shepard, stealing, drinking, and driving in drag races for the hell of it. No, Johnny was a good kid, he didn't deserve to be called that. I'd make sure to write a letter to the editor about that. 

And 'POLICE STANDOFF WITH CRIMINAL TURNS DEADLY'? Dally deserved what he got, in the eyes of the entire world, but we who knew him, knew that he didn't deserve it. He was just a 17 year old kid. Sure, he acted like he had been hardened by the world, but there was still that wide-eyed 10 year old inside of him, that I had met so many years ago. Dally drank, smoked, stole, got into fights, and did lots of other things, but he was still just a kid. A kid that deserved a chance to live, not to get killed by the police. A kid that cared about people, especially Johnny, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

I thought back to the first day that Dally had ever protected Johnny, when he was 13 and Johnny was 12:

_"Don't you ever touch him again, you punk bitch! You heard me, bastard?" screamed Dally at Johnny's aggressor, who was now pinned to the floor beneath Dally and getting punched viciously._

_Bryan, a Soc, looked up hatefully at Dally through his swollen eye. "You're just a dirty little Greaser like the rest of 'em," he said with a smirk and jerked his head towards the rest of the gang. _

_Bryan had been harassing Johnny for his money, and when Johnny tried to run away, Bryan punched him in the jaw. This wasn't the smartest thing on Bryan's part as Dally had been watching. As soon as Bryan hit Johnny, Dally had lunged out from behind the bushes and tackled him to the ground, pummeling Bryan with his fists._

_Dally swung at Bryan again and hit him square in the nose. "I said: 'Did you hear me?" Dally said in a dangerously calm voice, "Because if you ever get near him again, I'll cut you into ribbons. Now I'll ask again: Do you understand me?"_

_"Go ahead, cut me. I dare you. What'll it prove? That you actually are a vile, white trash Greaser like Cade here? That you're worthless like him?" said Bryan defiantly, not caring that Dally probably would take him up on the dare._

_Dally's response was immediate. He broke the pop bottle that he had been holding, and held it dangerously close to Bryan's neck. Dally raised the pop bottle, as if to cut Bryan, but then Johnny managed to squeak, "Dally don't do it! We-we'll get in trouble with Mrs. Curtis. You know how she hates it when you fight. And, she might not give you chocolate cake."_

_Dally glanced from Johnny to Bryan, to the rest of us standing there. Breathing heavily, he got off of Bryan and walked towards us. "Fine, but only because of Mrs. Curtis' cake," he said, still glaring at Bryan who was lying on the sidewalk._

_Dally began to walk, watching Bryan like a hawk, but still walking away. Suddenly, Bryan got up. In one swift movement,Dally threw the broken bottle near Bryan's head, missing narrowly but purposely. _

_"You didn't really think I'd let you off that easy, did you?" Dally asked with a smirk, and sauntered towards the Curtis' house._

Those were good times. While Dally had never been "innocent", I have a feeling something in jail had done this to him. It seemed impossible to me someone could be so cold, yet so caring towards some. I always thought that Dally might have loved Johnny in more ways than one-wait, what was I saying? I couldn't deface the memory of someone who was always there, no matter how distant they were.

Breathing in slowly, I started my truck again and drove on. I knew I was ready. To "face my demons" as the old saying goes. I drove for about half hour and started down the winding dirt road to the cemetary. It was built in a remote area, away from the city, as if it was meant to be hidden, a haven for only the dead.

I opened the gates, glancing up at the sign that read Our Lady of Lourdes Cemetary. The gates creaked ominously, and I shook involuntarily. Not out of fear for the dead, but of fear of what memories might awaken inside of me.

Walking towards the back of the cemetary, I saw Johnny's gravestone. It was small, and made out of cheap cement. There were no distinguishing features, but it was where Johnny lay. Johnny, the pet. Johnny, Pony's best friend. Johnny, the one who liked it better when his parents hit him, as long as they noticed him.

Resting on the green grass around the grave, I read the inscription his mother picked out. We all knew Jocelyn Cade, and she was no angel. But I knew that deep down, even if Johnny didn't know it, she loved her son. Maybe he was looking down now and calling her a hypocrite. Oh, how wrong he was.

One time, I was playing 'Spies' with Pony, and I spied on the Cade house.I saw Johnny get beaten by his father, and his mother screaming for Mr. Cade to stop. I was way too young to understand the significance of this.All I knew was that Johnny was "acting" with his father.When he finally stopped, Johnny was just twitching on the floor, and Mrs. Cade was sobbing, but wouldn't go near Johnny. When he woke up, she wiped her tears, and acted hacked off at him, for some reason or another.

Johnny's funeral was quiet and simple. The gang were the only ones who went. The priest didn't really seem to care, as if he was saying, 'Look kid, I'm getting paid to do this. I really don't give a damn'. Somehow, the day was sunny, defying the somber mood of the funeral.

And Dally? His funeral was next week. I had no idea how anyone was going to pay for even a cheap funeral, but Tim Shepard and Buck Merril had offered to pitch in anonymously. I suppose Dally had really made some true friends in this world.

They were both gone, taken in the same night, one by a fit of madness, and the other, heroically. Looking at the sky, I saw that it was almost night. How many hours had I been there? I didn't know, but I slowly got up and walked towards my pickup.

I got in and the engine sputtered, then started. Driving towards the Dingo, I knew I had done what I was afraid of. I had come to terms with my friends' deaths, however hard it was for me to remember without choking back tears. Looking back at the cemetary, I knew I had "faced my demons" and conquered them.

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The next day, I woke up in my house and saw Steve there, lying on the couch with abeer bottle in his hand, clearly with a hangover."Hey Soda, you ready to go back to work?" Steve asked with a slight slur of his words. 

I took a breath and said slowly, "Yeah...I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

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_A/N: What did you think? I think this one is the longest chapter, and the best one in my opinion (next to the one in Johnny's POV) Suggestions for who to do next?_


	4. Too Late

A/N: This is my first Outsiders fic, and its only my 4th fic..So be nice..lol..What is going through Dally's mind when Johnny dies, and he goes to rob the grocery store? Johnny/Dally slash. This is Dally's POV

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"Stay gold, Ponyboy...Stay gold" Those had been Johnny's last words. And then had "died gallant" as he himself used to say. Yes, he had died gallantly, riding off into the sunset to face his death. Just to save those kids. If it were me, I would sure as hell have stayed out. Not because I've been hardened beyond all caring, like the gang thinks but because I'm a coward. Johnny is everything-he was everything I'm not. Strong, brave, caring, all the virtues I had been stripped of by a life as a hood. And I loved him for it. I, Dallas Winston, who appeared to love nothing in this entire world, loved Johnny Cade. 

Yes, I cared about the rest of the gang,but it was mostly because Greasers stuck with Greasers, and the Socs stuck with the Socs, you dig? That's just the way things are around here. But it was as if there was some invisible barrier between them and me; I was a hardened hood and they were scared of me; respected me out of fear. Except for Johnny. There had always been a quiet mutual love and respect. I understood him, he understood me. And it was my fault he was dead. I could have gone in after him. I could have stopped him at the car. But why didn't I? Again, back to the same answer; I was a coward. And right now, all I could say is, "That's what you get for trying to help people, you little punk." I felt like I was going to break up and just cry in a corner, but Pony was there, and even in my madness, I didn't want to scare him.

But I couldn't help it. Suddenly, all the numb pain I had been feeling burst its barriers, like a deluge of memories and thoughts. It was too much to bear at once. I whirled about, teeth clenched, and pounding the wall. Outwardly, I said, "Dammit, Johnny, please don't die." What was I doing, thinking that maybe if I believed he was alive for long enough, he would get up and walk out of the hospital, joking and laughing like the old days.

Inside, I was thinking, 'He can't go...Not like this..It's too early..I never got a chance to say 'I love you'' I knew it sounded like a line out of a movie, but it was all that could describe my feelings. I wanted to collapse, to break down, to scream myself hoarse. But Dallas Winston never cries...At least, he shouldn't. No, even though I knew I was dangerously close to the edge of reason, I still couldn't let my guard down. I would never let anyone see me cry, to see my pain.My reason to live was gone, what was my purpose? To live as an empty shell? I didn't think so.

I left the hospital at a run, knocking over several nurses, but I didn't care, it was all a blur. I shoved the keys to my car into the ignition, not thinking that I was leaving Pony to get home by himself. In a short second of calmness, I remembered the day that we had kissed.

_It was last summer, and we were both sitting in the empty lot, full of broken pop bottles and discarded trash. But to the guys in the gang, it was like heaven. It was a place to get away from what happened at home, even if that meant sitting and sweltering in the sun, or freezing in the snow._

_Johnny and I were talking about some broad, who we had seen at the movie theaters. I had noticed she was incredibly pretty, but I couldn't make a move for once. I was frozen.There was a pause, and neither of us spoke, as the sun beat down on us, we were just sitting there, contemplating each other._

_"You know, Dally, I ain't never kissed a girl before," remarked Johnny, just staring at the sky, blushing slightly._

_I stood silent. I didn't want to_ _say anything to scare him away.Didn't want to let him know that I loved him. What if I was misinterpreting what he was saying?I just wanted him to stay, even if that meant I could only stare at him. _

_"I was wondering if maybe I could...you know...nobody else will know...Just for practic-" said Johnny. He was blushing beet red by now, and I knew what he meant. _

_I silenced the last words coming out of his mouth with a kiss. Oh glory, there were fireworks going on in my stomach. My mind was full of euphoric bliss, like I was high on some type of drug. Only this was better than any drug I had ever taken. This...This was Johnny.I had always wanted to taste his lips, just once. Just once would make me happy, for the rest of my life. I did it without thinking, even though I knew he could push me away. But he didn't._

_Slowly, I pulled away. What were you thinking, Dallas? It was broad daylight and any one of the guys in gang could come and see us. There was another awkward moment._

_"Umm...Well, bye then, Dally...See you later at the rumble, okay?" saidJohnny in a quiet voice, still blushing profusely. As he turned the corner, Johnny turned around, smiled at me, and gave me a small wink. It was then that I knew that I truly loved him._

But that was last summer. Now, Johnny was dead and there was nothing in this world that could bring him back. I could cry a thousand tears, kill a thousand Socs, and nothing would ever bring him back.

As I came back to reality, I lit a cigarette and turned on the radio. I didn't care which station it was on, I was just trying to act like nothing had happened. But I put my foot down on the pedal, and drove to the first grocery store I could find. I wasn't sure what I was going to do, I was just going to do it.

I pulled up the grocery store, tires screeching. Checked my waistband for my unloaded heater, it was always useful for a bluff, as I had once told Johnny and Pony. I walked inside, and stuffed five bottles of beer into my bag sloppily.

"Excuse me, is there something I can help you with?" asked the cashier in a bubbly voice, a blonde girl of about 18, Two-Bit's kind of girl. She was oblivious to the fact that I was commiting a robbery, so I took it a step further.

"Give me the money," I said in a calm, even tone, but there was a knot in my throat so huge, I thought my throat would shatter. I whipped out my heater, and pointed it straight at her head. At this, the blonde began to shake, but was frozen.

"GIVE ME THE FUCKING MONEY, YOU BITCH!" I roared, still with a knot in my throat.

I was getting nervous, the heater was shaking in my hands. Why was this happening now? I had killed more than a few people, held up more than a few grocery stores in my day, and now I was shaking, white dots popping in front of my eyes, obscuring my vision. As I raised a hand to rub my eyes, the cashier pressed a button underneath her desk, and I knew the fuzz were coming. Perfect.

I ran to the nearest phonebooth, and called Darry's house. If I was going to die, the least I could do, was totell Darry. I respected him so much, even though I never acted upon it. I mean, raising two kids has got to be hard at twenty, when you know that the only thing that keeps you from being rich and famous, are those damned kids. It must be even harder to still manage to love them with your heart and soul and all your being.

The phone rang a couple of times. _Pick up, pick up.."GODDAMNIT, PICK UP THE DAMNED PHONE! "_ I didn't notice I had screamed the last bit, but finally, Darry picked up the phone, "Hell-"

"I'm in trouble, Darry...I robbed a grocery store and the fuzz are after me. Meet me at the lot by your house..I'm sorry," I said in a whispered, rushed voice. I apologized because I very well knew these would be the last words I would speak to any of them.

I heard sirens and saw lights. What did it matter if they caught up with me? That's what I had wanted right? Right? I got myself here, and I was going to finish it.

Hell, I wouldn't go down without a fight, wouldn't go down without a blaze of glory. It's not like it mattered anymore. Johnny was gone, and in17 years of living on the streets, he was the only person that had truly mattered to me. And he was gone, so nothing was of any importance anymore. Except seeing him again.

I ran, not really trying to get to the lot by the Curtis' house. If I was going to die, I wanted to get one last look at the men(and boys) who had accompanied mefor the past years. They had never truly cared for me, but still, they were like family. The fuzz were catching up. Then I knew I couldn't delay it any longer. So I skidded to a halt beneath the lone streetlight on the block, and it flickered, faltered, as if it doubted I could do this. I knew this was insane. But then again, wasn't my entire life insane? Hadn't I gotten arrested when I was 10? Hadn't I jumped little kids? I knew I deserved this, I knew I was going to rot in hell. But I wanted it. Wanted it desperately, with all my life, although I knew there wasn't much more of my life left to live.

Then the fuzz pulled up, sirens wailing and almost at the same instant, they came out of their cars,guns raised and yelled 'Freeze!' At that moment, I think time slowed down. The scene took on an almost surreal, hazy quality. It was now or never. I whipped out my heater, looked back at the gang, standing on the porch, watching in horror. I saw Ponyboy, looking confused and horrified at the same time. I saw Steve, the angry one, sink to his knees and sob. Sodapop, comforting Steve. Two-Bit and Darry, just standing there with faces full of disbelief and sadness.

Maybe they did care, maybe they did love me. But it was too late now, I felt the bullet rain pelt me, and strangely, I felt little pain. All good things came too late.They were too late. Too late to save Johnny. Too late to realize that Johnny was the one that held us together. Too late to save me from my fate...

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A/N: I think I might do the gang's reactions to Dally and Johnny's deaths, so stay tuned, I promise I'll update if I decide not to. Read and review, please! 


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